Something like a Honeymoon

When I started going steady with Amy during my second year of college, she was very definite about the rules. No sex before marriage, and no talk of marriage until we had been going together at least two years. This was in the 1950s. Rules like that were not unusual then. So I respected her rules. Our physical relationship consisted of a lot of hugging and kissing, which never failed to get me intensely aroused, but I never tried to take it beyond that. Then, toward the end of our second year together, she suddenly announced she wanted to break up. She gave several reasons, including the fact that I had never mentioned marriage, but the one that stung most was her saying that my behavior made her wonder whether I was actually interested in girls. I said a lot of stupid things in response, one of which was, 'This is a nice time to break up, when spring is almost here.' Surprisingly, she replied, 'Do you want to put it off for a while?' I angrily said no, but thinking about it the next day I began to realize this was an offer I should not pass up. Armed with a plan, I went around to her dorm and asked if she was serious about putting things off. 'If it'll make you happier,' she said. I said what would make me happier would be if we could go off somewhere to spend a weekend together. She of course recoiled in alarm from this, but I assured her I had no thought of 'going all the way.' I then went into the explanation I had planned out carefully in advance: 'We're both young and naive. We haven't really known how to deal with our sexual side. This will be a chance to explore and learn with no strings attached, because after all we're breaking up. But it might help us as we move on into new relationships.' That does not sound very convincing as I write it down, but as I had hoped, it stirred up her curiosity or sense of adventure, something like that, and she agreed.

The next Saturday, each with a small suitcase, we headed off in a borrowed car. We drove to a tourist destination where, because the season hadn't started yet, there were a lot of motel vacancies and proprietors willing to rent a room without too many questions. By early afternoon, there we stood in a motel room next to a double bed and feeling about as romantic as a couple of rutabagas. Glancing around in desperation, my eye fell on the shower stall and I said, 'Let's take a shower together to break the ice.' She was probably as much at a loss as I was, for she agreed and we immediately began taking off our clothes. Bare breasts and nipples, the first I had ever seen. Her aureoles were large and the nipples pointed up, but of course I had no notion that was unusual. All I knew was that I had reached the promised land. Under the shower, I kissed her once on the lips and then directed by kissing toward her breasts. Something told me she liked it. I know I did. It gave me a tremendous boner, which brushed against her as we changed positions. She looked down at it in shock and then up at my face, as if trying to put the two together in her mind. I moved around behind her, took the bar of soap, and began soaping her shoulders. I moved from there to her breasts and then to her belly, which gave a shudder as my soapy hands moved over it. And then down to the furry triangle and the slit that my fingers naturally slipped into. By this time I was drawing our bodies together so that the full length of my cock was pressed along her spine. I began rubbing her vulva, and especially within the folds. Her breathing was starting to come in gasps and she started to squirm, making a kind of undulating movement against my cock. Everything started going faster and faster. Her body stiffened and as she pushed back against me I came. Did I ever come! I had never experienced anything like it. Her back and my belly were covered with cum, but I managed to angle us around under the shower so that it was washed away, possibly before she had any awareness of it. She turned around and we embraced, murmuring nonsense. My cock had not softened in the least, and as it pressed against her belly she took it in her hand and smiled.

Most of the next 24 hours were spent together in bed. In between bouts of masturbation we examined each others bodies and asked each other questions. And before long, by mutual agreement, we repealed the law against 'going all the way.' It was an education, in addition to which I must have come five or six times. If this was a piece of romantic fiction, a nice ending would be that Amy and I were back together, that we soon married and have had many happy decades together. But she was a very practical minded young woman and wasn't about to let a one-day sexual romp unravel her carefully thought-out decision. I now recognize she was right and am glad she stuck to her resolve. But I do think those hours in the motel room set me on a better course in my love life, and I trust it did for her as well.